


The Curious Case of the Ice Cream Van

by cdavis594



Series: Sterek One-Shots [1]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Ice Cream, M/M, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shameless Smut, stoner stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdavis594/pseuds/cdavis594
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not much to say really, just; Stiles gets a summer job to help with college expenses.<br/>The one shot is pretty self-explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Case of the Ice Cream Van

Stiles had taken the summer job upon his father’s request; it was his last summer before college and it was more just to get him to put on some underwear and get out of the house. The pay wasn’t great, but he admittedly searched out for the easiest, least stressful job possible, and what’s easier than pouring some ice cream into a paper pot or cone, forcing a smile if he’s feeling in the mood.

He applied for the job and within five minutes of leaving a voicemail on the owner’s phone, he got the time and date of when to pick up the VW camper-turned-ice-cream-van; he wasn’t stupid, it’s a good 110° outside, which is perfect weather for ice cream, so he parked the van somewhere inconspicuous and remote. If he was lucky, he might just get to test out whatever excuse the van had for sub woofers and maybe even whip out the bong nestled in his school bag between a bag of Cheetos and a few comics.

When Stiles picked up the van he was more than surprised to see that it was pretty nice, an off-white-blue kind of colour with a large hatch on the right side to reveal the ice cream machine and all that other lovely stuff for preparing and making the ice cream. Due to it being summer, Stiles parked the van in a small picnic area about half a mile away from the school, figuring there were many better picnic areas in Beacon Hills to visit.

Stiles opened up the hatch, set up the black board sign, plugged his phone into the connector cable he brought for the speakers, flicking onto his art playlist; he nodded in approval as the sub woofers proved to be half decent and collected the colourful box of chalk from the glove box.

Throwing off his shirt, he left it in the van and went out to the blackboard sign; the owner knew he was going to a degree in art and design in college, so he told Stiles to just draw anything to publicise the ice cream. So he began drawing.

Stiles spent almost an entire hour, from nine in the morning to nine-fifty-five, recreating Edvard Munch ’s ‘The Scream’, then adding in some extremely cartooned dripping ice cubes; if people had any common sense, they’d understand.

With his skin nicely warmed with the morning sun, he put his shirt back on and looked around at the empty parking lot; this could get extremely boring. Hence the bong and comic books; Stiles couldn’t quite remember when he started on the bud, maybe it was somewhere between the Kanima and the alpha pack, but he didn’t do it a lot, just recreationally when the urge took him.

Biting his lip, Stiles leaned on the counter in the van, examining the pastel coloured pennant banner draped on the edge of the hatch; his phone buzzed in his pocket and he turned the music down before answering it.

“Dude, Stiles, what’re ya’ doing today?” Scott asked excitedly and Stiles smiled, fiddling absentmindedly with the pot of coloured plastic spoons in front of him.

“Oh, nothin’, just working as little as humanely possible.”

“ _You_ got a _job_?” His tone was incredulous and Stiles scoffed at his best friend.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” Stiles waited for Scott to spot his reference, but the time didn’t come.

“Sorry dude, I just wasn’t expecting it. Where’re you working?”

“Scott, seriously? You _still_ haven’t watched Star Wars? And I’m working somewhere you’ll never find me!” Stiles rolled his eyes, glaring at an innocent stone in the mass of gravel outside the ice cream van.

“Is that a dare?” Stiles could easily hear the grin in Scott’s voice.

“Ugh, why did you call me, you loser?”

“Oh, well, I was actually wondering if you had anything planned or any ideas for us to do today, ‘cause if not, Isaac asked me out on a date and… yeah, so you’re busy working, which means I can go on the date; thanks bro!” Scott hung up and Stiles looked down at his phone, confused at what just happened; he knew the Scisaac tension could be cut with a freakin’ knife, but he hadn’t expected either of them to have the balls and step up to the plate.

Stiles plugged his phone back into the stereo and pressed play on his favourite Iggy Azalia album; he had taken a liking to her blunt, honest lyrics, her ability to make amazing music, and she was also on his list of people he could have sex with if he by some chance met her and she wanted to, and he wouldn’t have to feel guilty; he and Derek had compiled a list of both men and women they were allowed to have sex with and it wouldn’t be cheating.

Thinking of Derek put a smile on Stiles’ lips; when Stiles had first played ‘Change Your Life’ to Derek on their first date, which also doubled up as a pack road-trip last summer, Derek had looked at the radio like it personally offended him. Stiles had redeemed his darling Iggy by showing Derek exactly who she is; she instantly joined _The List_.

The List also included Johnny Depp, Alexander Skarsgård, Katy Perry, Zooey Deschanel, Amanda Seyfried, and so many more that Stiles couldn’t name by heart; they wrote it down somewhere.

Lydia had christened them ‘Sterek’ the moment they got back from their second date at a sushi bar in the small beach town they went to with the pack last summer, and she no longer addressed them by anything other than the ‘ship name’.

Stiles sighed and picked up one of the large paper tubs for the ice cream and pulled the chocolate lever, overfilling the pot with the ice cream when he noticed the small chocolate chips in it; it looked absolutely delicious.

He covered the ice cream in chocolate sauce and rainbow sprinkles, grinning at his masterpiece; he took a picture and sent it to Derek. Grinning at his phone’s background, which was a sneaky selfie Stiles managed to get with the whole pack at the beach; Erica, Lydia, Scott, Isaac, Jackson, Allison and Danny were all for it, but Derek and Boyd’s faces showed them trying to hide their smiles as they reluctantly looked at Stiles’ phone, Stiles took one of the small green spoons and dove into the sticky mess.

It took less than thirty seconds for the reply message to come through; he slid it open to see a picture of the healthy looking purple smoothie and rolled his eyes. Stiles had to admit that Derek made some pretty kick ass combos in his smoothies; the purple one is usually blackcurrant and banana, which really doesn’t sound good at all, but he uses a shot glass of natural orange juice to the smoothie and it’s absolutely amazing.

**_To Sourwolf:_ ** **Mmm… gimme!!! >:( work sucks FML! x**

Stiles got an instant reply to his message this time.

**_From Sourwolf:_ ** **I can bring you one if you wish. But it’ll cost you. ;)**

Stiles could see that exact wink as he read the message and he sighed, taking another mouthful of ice cream; it would probably get him fired if he got caught having sex anywhere near the van.

**_To Sourwolf:_ ** **U cocktease! U know I cant do that here bt I’m reallllly in the moooood!**

**_From Sourwolf:_ ** **You still get a break, don’t you?**

**_To Sourwolf:_ ** **Ur a bad influence! Bad wolf! But yep, Mr. Boss Man said to take a break after the first rush hour, which is usual about 1pm :D Good thing I chose to park in the most remote place in all of Bacon Hills!**

**_To Sourwolf:_ ** **Shit *Beacon. :* Counting down the minutes Der-Bear  x**

**_From Sourwolf:_ ** **Ditto x**

Stiles grinned down at his phone; his text conversations with Derek never really lasted all that long, because Derek said something about the reassurance of Stiles’ voice. Stiles liked to call Derek Feelwolf when he said cute shit like that, but needless to say Derek still wasn’t happy about ‘Sourwolf’ so he definitely didn’t appreciate ‘Feelwolf’.

At twelve Stiles was surprised to see a familiar ugly lime green motorbike spin into the picnic area, two bodies huddled together on the death trap; Stiles rolled his eyes and put on a fake, cheesy smile.

“Derek told you, didn’t he?” Stiles asked casually, knowing the two wolves could hear him over the slowly quieting bike.

They strolled over casually, hand in hand, and Stiles pretended to stick his finger down his throat, gagging at the sight, even though he was the exact same, if not worse, when Derek was around.

“Yeah, you should be proud though, it took both of our puppy eyes to crack it outta him; that guy had a strong will, I don’t know how you get _anything_ from him. But an ice cream truck? Really?” Isaac grinned, looking at me leaning casually against the counter top.

“Yeah, I’ve been out here since nine and you’re the first people to enter the damn picnic area, I chose this one for that exact reason, but the sad truth is that all the big picnic places are taken by other ice cream trucks; this business is _mad_ competitive. Oh, and remind me to be angry at that stupid boyfriend of mine… I told him not to tell anyone…” Stiles bit his lip; he’d pretend to be mad at Derek for all of ten seconds before completely caving under the massively effective puppy eyes that Derek had hidden from _everyone_ , which made the first time he used the puppy eyes that much more of a surprise.

Derek was literally a secret puppy and only Stiles knew it, which made Stiles feel like one important mother fucker.

“ _You_? Mad at _Derek_? Yeah, sure, when hell freezes over!” Scott scoffed and Stiles glared at him; he may not be able to stay mad at Derek… but he also could stay mad at the two puppy eyed lovers in front of him.

Damn his pack and their collective puppy eyes.

“Ugh, you suck! What ice cream do you want?”

“Ooo… gimme a big tub with _all_ the flavours!” Scott cried happily and I smirked.

“I’m not supposed to do that, but _fuck it_!” Stiles clapped his hands, dancing from foot to foot; Scott and Isaac looked at him weirdly and Stiles just shook it off, filling a large tub with the chocolate, then the strawberry, then the vanilla.

“Sauce?”

“Sure, uh… toffee, oh and rainbow sprinkles!” Scott grinned.

“Scott, you’re such a child!” Stiles ignored Isaac’s comment, thinking about the diabetic monstrosity he made earlier, and did as Scott told him to.

“Isaac?” Stiles asked as he handed Scott the ice cream and a blue spoon.

“Uh… vanilla please, with raspberry sauce, thanks Stiles. How much will that be?”

“Gosh, your manners are a million times better than Scott’s! Scotty, let this guy teach you a thing or two!” Stiles grinned as he prepared Isaac’s ice cream.

“Oh, he will… don’t worry about that…” Scott mumbled and Stiles choked on the air in his throat; Scott was never so elusive about sexual things, he normally just came out and said it. Pun intended.

“Oh, uh… large tubs are four dollars each, with sauce is four fifty, so, kind sir, you owe me nine dollars!” Stiles took up his leaning position again and Isaac set his ice cream on the counter as he shoved a hand into his extremely tight jeans.

Isaac handed over the money and Stiles shoved it in the lockbox that counted as the ‘cash register’. Scott was practically inhaling the ice cream and Isaac shook his head fondly at him; Stiles was happy for his friends, but if that’s what he and Derek acted like then he was seriously re-evaluating his life.

“Why don’t you take a seat at one of the picnic tables since you’re on a date?” Stiles suggested and they wordlessly walked over to one of the many picnic tables, all fond gazed and hidden giggles.

Stiles sat down in the driver’s seat and flicked through his music selection, boredom eating away at him, his ADHD then decided to really kick in and he looked at the dash board, all the buttons calling out to him. He grinned and flicked one switch that instantly made the speaker on top of the ice cream van play the cheery tune of ‘Pop goes the Weasel’. Stiles flicked it on and off a little, almost creating a funky kind of remix, before an angry shout from Scott stopped him. Stiles sighed and went back to his music selection, finding one of the most ironic songs he could find; ‘Bitchin’ Summer’ by Avril Lavigne. He found it quite comical, but he did enjoy the song, so he let it play out, taping his feet against the steering wheel.

After about twenty minutes of random songs, he heard faint goodbyes from the lovebirds and the roar of the bike leaving the site; a while after that, just as the owner had said, a few small families and groups of teenagers arrived for camping in the nearby preserve or picnicking, which occupied Stiles for at least half an hour.

By the time he got to rest, it was twelve-forty-eight and he smirked , sending a quick text before closing over the hatch and bringing the blackboard sign inside.

**_To Sourwolf:_ ** **Where do u wanna meet, lover?**

Stiles waited impatiently for whole ten minutes before he got a reply, and it wasn’t the one he was expecting.

**_From Sourwolf:_ ** **You get off at 5pm right? Your dad turned up, he’s here in the loft now! I don’t know what you told him but he turned up with beer and demanded a ‘talk’, I only just made it to the bathroom Stiles, we’ve been talking about you :) he’s worried about what’s going to happen when you go to college while I’m here. I think he forgets sometimes that you’re going to the community college that’s only half an hour away from your house. I think he thinks you’re gonna miss out on the full ‘college experience’ if you’re with me, and I might just agree with him a little. Stiles, we’re going to talk later, don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with you, you know that, but we do need to talk about things. I think this is the longest text I’ve ever sent in my entire life, but I get the feeling I’m not gonna be able to text you back for quite a while. I love you, see you later x**

Stiles frowned at the message, his dick cried in disappointment, but he understood that Derek obviously couldn’t just take off to fuck the Sheriff’s son while the Sheriff waits in his loft. That would be weird… and rude.

Stiles drove into town, picked up the sub he ordered in the morning before he picked up the ice cream van, and he ate it back in the van; he felt full, but not remotely in the way he wished he felt full.

Driving around, Stiles found another empty looking picnic site and threw his feet up on the dashboard. He flicked onto ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, turning the volume up and pulled the bong out of his backpack.

He got a good, mellow half an hour in before a knock came from the hatch and Stiles jumped from his seat, hiding the bong back in his school bag before fumbling with the door handle; with eyes blown wide in panic, he tried to waft as much of the smoke out of the fogged up cabin, but there was only so much he could do before the knock came again, along with a girly giggle.

Stiles stumbled through to the hatch and opened it slightly, warning whoever was out there to back up a bit; he gave it a shove and it bounced up, locking into place. He watched smoke roll out through the hatch a little and sighed at who he was looking at.

“How the hell did you find me? What the hell? You almost gave me a freakin’ heart attack! Fucking Derek and his big mouth!” Stiles smashed his head against the counter before looking back up to glare at the smug pairs; Erica, Boyd, Lydia and Jackson were cackling with each other as Stiles wrung his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck all of you!” He cried angrily.

“It wasn’t Derek! Haha… Isaac text Erica and we were on a double date so we thought; let’s torture Stilinski!” Jackson beamed and Stiles glared daggers at him, throwing a small stack of napkins at Jackson’s smug looking face.

“Well those two are assholes too! Do you want ice cream or not, you fuckers?” Stiles didn’t dare let up his glare; if he showed the slightest sign of weakness, these four would sniff it out and feed off of it. Especially Lydia…

“I’ll take strawberry with white chocolate sauce, in a large cone,” Lydia began and look one glance at Erica before ordering for her, “and a chocolate with chocolate sprinkles.”

Stiles made the ice creams and winked at the girls as their boyfriends’ paid and tried to catch up with them; they all climbed into Jackson’s SUV and drove away. Stiles slumped against the counter and frowned; he literally just thought he’d lose his summer job on his first day.

Stiles passed the next few hours airing the van out, reading comics and sketching in a notepad. When the clock on his phone showed that it was five pm, he went into the back of the van and cleaned everything down the way the owner told him to this morning.

Whatever random song he had been listening too stopped, and it was replaced by the grooving, mellow notes of Marvin Gaye’s timeless classic ‘Let’s Get it On’. The pit of Stiles’ stomach churned and he turned around to see his boyfriend, smirking, and less than a foot away.

Stiles bit his lip around a laugh and covered his face with his hand, leaning his forehead against Derek’s shoulder; Derek pulled Stiles’ face up, peering into his eyes with a secret smile.

Stiles jerked forward and captured his lovers lips with the own, tugging at his bottom lip playfully, Derek’s hands fluttered greedily down to Stiles’ hips, gripping and grasping at the skin under his shirt.

“I missed you today,” Stiles started, mouthing hungrily at Derek’s bared neck, his submission did not go unnoticed by Stiles; he merely saved the revelling for later, when he could fist pound the air and scream into a pillow, “so that little talk you wanna have can just go ahead and wait, because right now, all I need is for my boyfriend to fuck me so hard I forget how embarrassing, stupid and annoying our friends are.”

“Well, it’s a good thing your boyfriend is one hundred percent on board with that idea.” Derek whispered, promptly tugging his shirt over his head, and pulling off Stiles’ before lunging in to begin his assault course on Stiles’ skin, leaving a flushed red scruff burn in his wake. Large hickeys slowly began to form across Stiles’ neck and collarbone, and he thrust his tented jeans against the strong thigh between his legs.

Derek’s hands unbuttoned Stiles’ jeans, but instead of pulling them down, he traced the hem, sinking his burning digits down the back of Stiles’ Iron Man boxer briefs; he grunted as Derek kneaded and massaged his ass, devouring Stiles’ neck with a fiery passion.

            Derek lifted one hand and expertly plunged two fingers into Stiles’ mouth, prying it open before Stiles closed his lips around the digits; Derek continued his trails of needy kisses as Stiles’ mouth sucked and pulled on Derek’s fingers until they were slick and dripping with saliva. Derek’s free hand tugged Stiles’ jeans down slightly and with a popping sound that Derek thought should be illegal, he pulled his fingers from the warmth of Stiles’ mouth and as their mouths connected again, Derek’s fingers plunged deep within Stiles, expertly massaging the delicate warmth.

Small, minute grunts came from Stiles’ lips as Derek’s fingers scissored and stretched him, preparing him for what he had been starved of all day. When a third finger was introduced, Stiles preened, arching into his mate’s body.

Feeling satisfied with his work, Derek removed his fingers and turned Stiles around while he worked on his own jeans. Derek mouthed at Stiles’ neck as he thrust himself inside Stiles, rough, needy and impatient; Stiles’ head fell back onto Derek’s shoulder, baring his neck in utter submission, and Derek bit down on his skin, sucking on the tender bruises he left there yesterday.

Derek’s primal needs shot through him, his claws breaking free as they roamed underneath Stiles’ shirt, leaving red hot trails in their wake. Stiles gripped the counter with one hand and a shelf above his head with the other; Derek growled as his paced quickened and Stiles merely spluttered out random, quiet, chocked ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s.

The air in Stiles’ lungs was sparse as his boyfriend, his mate, thrust against the tenderness of his throbbing prostate; a shiver rippled through him and he moaned as heat surrounded him, Derek’s fast, rough pace suffocating the air from his lungs.

Derek’s hands searched under Stiles’ shirt, finding his pert, awake nipples. Stiles gasped, feeling ice cream tubs tumble off the shelves with every thrust of Derek’s hips; Stiles pushed back in rhythm with Derek.

Derek mouthed at the pale, mole freckled skin of Stiles’ neck and breathed in his scent; a mixture of vanilla and dark chocolate, heavily laced with marijuana and sweat, and on top of that, Derek could smell himself on Stiles, and this fact wore away any shred of control Derek still had.

Derek’s eyes glowed crimson red and his canines lengthened, plunging through the skin of Stiles’ shoulder, drawing blood that he quickly lapped up with a hungry tongue. A strangled cry escaped Stiles’ lips and he grasped around the shelves for the napkins he knew they had.

“Derek- Derek, babe… I’m gonna- can you smell it on me babe? I’m gonna come for you!” Stiles turned his head, grinning back at Derek; Derek smirked back at him, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own.

“Come for me Stiles, like the perfect mate you are. Come for me and I’ll fill you with my seed; I’ll breed you like the bitch I know you are!” Derek growled in Stiles’ ear, eliciting a heady, arousing groan. Pleasure sky-rocketed through Stiles’ entire body as he grasped at the tip of his member with the rough napkins, just managing to catch his sticky load while Derek continued to pound his throbbing member into Stiles’ convulsing warmth.

Derek’s thrusts became sporadic and uncoordinated as he neared his end, twisting his clawed fingers between Stiles’, he brought their joined hands down and wrapped them around Stiles’ waist as his hips jerked forward, his orgasm erupted inside the tight, squelching heat of his mate.

“Stiles, baby, you’re so perfect… perfect… I love you, Stiles…” Derek whispered, breath dancing across between Stiles’ covered shoulder blades; Derek rested his forehead on Stiles’ neck and panted, brushing their joined hands up and down Stiles’ sides.

“I’ll call your bullshit later… but now- we’ve gotta go, babe, I’ve gotta get this monstrosity back to where it belongs, then we can go back to your place and continue… this.” Stiles purred, pressing his lips to the Derek’s temple lightly, his own pants laced with lingering arousal and ice cream. “I hit the reef not too long ago, and I definitely have the munchies for _something_.”

Derek didn’t reply; he didn’t think he _could_ reply to that. So he pulled out of his boyfriend and tucked himself back into his jeans while Stiles did the same. Stiles put the soiled napkins in a trash can near to the van in the parking lot and drove like a bat out of hell to take the van back to the owner’s garage while Derek took off for the loft; Stiles made sure to tell him to have the lube and the toys ready in twenty minutes, but if Stiles could help it, he’d make it in half the time with force of will alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!  
> Please leave me some kudos if you liked it!!  
> It's much appreciated!!!


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